Page 144 of The Elusive Billionaire
She’s the piece of me that’s been missing—the faith to my skepticism, the light to my dark, the matter that fills the void of me.
Simply put, she’s the best parts of myself I forgot existed, and when she stood before me as my own personal reflection, I fought her every day because I was scared of what I had blocked out. That stops now.
Moose nods, then slips back to allow me access to my girl. In my periphery, Sage and Braxton surround Madi. The three of them sit silently, allowing me to stand guard over my future—Savannah Monroe.
“Are you okay?” I scan every inch of her face, her neck, shoulders, belly, all the way to her toes, then repeat the process in reverse.
“I’m fine, Grey.” Her voice wavers. She’s putting on a brave face for everyone around her.
“Savvy, we’ll need to take pictures of the bruising,” Chief Rigsby says. “Would you like to do that here, or somewhere more private?”
I glance around the space, seeing it for the first time since I entered to find it nearly empty.
“Blissy sent everyone home,” Moose says behind me. Regardless of blood, this man is family.
“Here’s fine.” Savvy only focuses on my face, as if she’s pulling strength from my proximity, and it fucks me up seven ways to Sunday, but I will stay strong for her.
She’s staring at me as though she’s pleading with me for something, but I can’t interpret what she needs, so I gently take her left hand in mine, squeezing it lightly, hoping it gives her whatever she’s searching for.
As her palm slips into mine, I feel her nervous energy flowing into my veins. I keep my breathing even, calm, relaxed, and eventually she mimics my cadence.
With her right hand, she slowly lifts the sleeve of her T-shirt over her shoulder. I don’t want to look, but I need to see what he’s done to her.
Another squeeze to her hand. Another shot of confidence I don’t feel. Another subliminal message that I’m here for her.
Then I look lower and fight back a gag.
Deep-purple fingerprints have already formed on her thin arms. That fucker squeezed so hard that welts have formed where his fingers pressed her skin between them.
“Grey?” She’s close to breaking. I hear it in the way she says my name—unsure, scared, and too timid.
I glare at the marks on her arm, blink as though my lashes are the shutter of a camera, and burn this image into my mind for eternity, then vow that it will never happen again.
Another slow blink of my damp lashes, and I wrangle my self-control into submission, then lift my gaze to her haunted one.
“This will never happen again,” I whisper.
She nods, and a single tear lands in the crease of her eye. Using my free hand, I wipe it away before it has the chance to fall.
“Don’t cry, baby. He isn’t worth your tears.”
“Th—they’re not for him.”
I frown but actively work at keeping my body language open and loose for her. “I’ll always carry your pain, Sav. I’ll dry your tears and kiss them away.”
“They’re not for me either.” Another one rolls down her cheek, and I catch it with a gentle kiss.
“Then why are you crying?” My voice cracks, and I realize that seeing her in pain is more than I can bear.
“For you.”
I jolt backward. “For me? I’m not the one hurt, sweetheart. Don’t ever cry for me.”
“Okay, Savvy. Can you show me the other side?” Chief Rigsby asks.
She nods but doesn’t look away from me as she releases my hand to lift her other sleeve.
This time I don’t look. I’ve seen enough, and I’ll remember it for the rest of my life.
